


Celebration

by BlacklistMaestro



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Lizzington - Freeform, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 04:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlacklistMaestro/pseuds/BlacklistMaestro
Summary: Liz makes an impulsive decision to help Red celebrate his release from prison.  Takes place between 6.12 and 6.13.





	Celebration

_I have wheels up in 45._

Despite his ambiguity, Liz knew exactly where he was headed - to Gene & Georgetti’s in Chicago for the famous, our perhaps infamous, _Chicken a la Joe_.

She didn’t know what possessed her follow him but follow him she did. It took only moments to run home, throw all she would need in a backpack, and Uber to the airport.

Changing in the bathroom of the airport into the only thing in her closet that could possibly be appropriate for a celebratory dinner with Raymond Reddington, Liz hesitated.

_Are you sure he is going to be happy to see you?_

_Maybe he’ll be irritated that you crashed his party?_

_Is he even here?_

_What are you even doing here, Liz?!?!_

Liz was suddenly distracted from her personal interrogation by her reflection in the airport bathroom mirror.

It had been so long since she had dressed as a woman she hardly recognized herself. The “little black dress” that hugged her slim yet feminine figure in all the right places was cut just low enough to make any man take notice but not low enough to suggest anything untoward would occur later in the evening. The curls in her hair were gentle yet sophisticated. The three-inch heels, fake designer clutch that looked anything but fake, and the perfume that Red had brought her from one of him many circumnavigations of the globe completed the picture of simple elegance before her in the mirror.

Liz smiled softly, proud of herself.

_And…what are we doing here, again????_

Liz sighed to herself. She didn’t really know why she came; or at least wasn’t willing to name it. Watching him literally seconds from death had made everything suddenly very real. The fact that it was by her own hand was too real for her to contemplate.

She was here to come clean. To apologize. To tell him how grateful she was he was still alive. To…celebrate.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Tony, you always exceed expectations!” Red exclaimed jovially. She could hear his contagious laugh all the way from the door of the restaurant, relieved that he was, in fact, there.

She approached his table cautiously from behind, watching him hold court with “Tony” who seemed to hang on his every word.

“Spare no expense tonight, Tony! I’m celebrating. Any bottle from your private cellar that you recommend would be most appreciated!” Red exclaimed.

“Anything for you tonight, Raymond,” Tony responded enthusiastically. “I couldn’t be happier for you old, friend!”

“You’ll share a glass with me, won’t you?”

“Of course!” Tony exclaimed before noticing Liz hovering over Red’s left shoulder.

“Can I help you, ma’am,” Tony asked politely.

Red followed his friend’s gaze to find Elizabeth standing shyly behind him.

“I’m here for the celebration,” Liz said hopefully, her eyes finding Red’s.

Surprising Raymond Reddington was a feat few could claim, yet tonight Liz was victorious. He simply looked at her with his mouth agape before a small appreciative smile crossed his face.

The site took his breath away. While she was always beautiful, tonight was different. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her in anything but her “work” clothes. His eyes wandered from her gentle curls to the three-inch heels and everything in between.

“Looks like a table for two is in order, Tony,” Red proclaimed as he regained his composure and his smile widened.

“On second thought, bring the second bottle you recommended. I think Elizabeth will find it divine,” he said thoughtfully, finally finding his bearings and rising to meet Liz.

“You look…exquisite,” he whispered, leaning in to give her gentle kiss on the cheek which caused Liz’s stomach to somersault.

“You’re wearing the Chanel,” he beamed.

Liz smiled shyly, suddenly understanding why women seemed to melt in his presence.

“It’s perfect on you,” he finished proudly, knowing how amazing it would smell on her. Wondering to what he owed the great gift of her company this evening.

“It was a lovely gift, Red. I don’t have many opportunities to wear it!” she said gratefully, as she sat in the chair he pulled out for her next to him at the small corner table.

Tony returned and poured the expensive wine into two glasses, while the remainder went into the nearby decanter.

“Elizabeth, this is Tony. Tony has given his life to this exquisite establishment. Tony, would you please tell Elizabeth about how we discovered this wine.”

“Raymond, you are the storyteller here,” Tony insisted with a flourish of his hand. “We only found it because you are such a snob.”

“That feels a little harsh,” Red said, pretending to be wounded by Tony’s remarks.

Liz laughed, glad she came and feeling more relaxed already.

“If the shoe fits, Raymond,” Tony insisted.

“Alright, we were in Italy almost a decade ago, looking for the perfect wine for Tony to put on the menu. Something unique. Something no one would ever forget…”

“First, he insulted ALL the wine makers in Italy and then drove us to southern France!” Tony interrupted, directing his comments to Liz, clearly recalling his irritation.

“Not ALL, Tony!”

Liz laughed again as Red continued his elaborate story that contain several smaller stories within stories. They were finished with the first bottle and well into the second before they first course before Red finally closed his likely embellished tale.

Her cheeks were flushed and she had a lovely buzz likely from both the wine and the company; realizing with each passing moment what she could have lost had Cooper not been able to convince the President of Reddington's value.

“Tell me about Agnes?” Red asked softly, knowing he was entering territory previously forbidden.

Liz smiled softly at her daughter’s name.

“She’s well. Growing.”

“Does she still love the bear book?” Red asked jovially.

Liz was surprised at the question, and then he went on.

“She would crawl onto my lap ten times a day with that book, her pink blanket, and her stuffed dog…what was his name…”

“Chance” Liz finished.

“That’s right, Chance. I always though it should Fate or Destiny but, fine, it was Chance.”

Liz laughed at Red’s analysis of Agnes’ stuffed toy names; surly no one but Raymond Reddington would have such deep opinions on the honorifics bestowed on a child’s stuffed toy!

“‘Babbo… Bear book’ she would say once she settled in…” he reminisced fondly.

Liz was taken aback and touched by the story. This was all new information.

“She called you ‘Babbo?’”

“Yes…I don’t know why. She called Dembe ‘Bebe’ which makes more sense, I suppose. Babbo and Bebe were quite a team!” Red laughed.

“You’ve never told me any of this before, Red,” Liz interjected.

Red looked at her with a shrug.

“You never asked.”

_Ouch!_

He was right. When she awoke from all those months in a coma, she was so consumed by her grief for Tom, managing her physical disabilities, and, later, her quest for revenge that it never occurred to ask what life was like while she slept. How they ended up – the four of them - where they were. Why Agnes was never afraid of her and seemed to know who she was despite Liz missing nearly half of her life. Who took care of Agnes on a day-to-day basis.

_“Ten times a day…”_

It appeared that Red and Dembe had taken on all the extraordinary details of raising her child without any acknowledgment from her.  

_Why hadn't she realized it before!?!?!?_

“Have you seen her?” Red asked, filling their glasses from a third exquisite bottle of wine Tony brought.

Liz’s face fell.

“No. I haven’t seen her since…well…since we saw her together that day at her school.”

Red’s heart hurt at the thought of Agnes being away from her mother. Away from him.

“But I have some pictures,” Liz offered with the bit of excitement she could muster, pulling out her phone and shuffling through the photos before leaning across the table to show them to Red; her long, wavy hair falling across her shoulder, brushing his face along the way.

He looked briefly at the photos but more at Elizabeth, now so close to him he could feel her warmth on his face and smell the sweet scent of Chanel on her skin.

“She’s beautiful, right?” Liz whispered proudly.

“Yes…she is,” Red whispered back, his gaze fixated on Liz as the sounds of the Latin jazz ensemble in the restaurant’s lounge began underscoring their conversation.  
.  
Liz turned to face him but didn’t pull away. She felt the heat return to her face; certain this time that it was not the wine. Questioning again why she felt compelled to come here tonight.

The air was still. Each waiting for the other to say the next word. Pull away. Or…lean in.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here, Elizabeth?” Red questioned delicately as he sat back in his chair, the moment passing as quickly as it arrived.

“I just didn’t want you to have to celebrate alone.” Liz said, innocently.

“I couldn’t think of anyone I would rather enjoy this evening with,” Red concurred.

She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, how comfortable their conversation had been throughout the evening, or the intimacy that seemed ever present since she walked in the door of Gene & Georgetti’s but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I know…” Liz began suddenly.

There was silence as Red took a long drink from his wine.

Liz’s heart began to race.

“Know what?” Red prompted softly.

Liz swallowed.

“…I know you’re not Raymond Reddington. The bones in the duffel bag belonged to Raymond Reddington. I know you’re not my father!”

Red laughed loudly.

“Well, thank God we are finally past that RIDICULOUS notion!”

Liz was stunned.

_Did he just ADMIT it!?!!?_

“Red? Did you hear what I said?!?!?!”

“Yes! And, THAT is worth celebrating!” Red exclaimed standing from his seat and extending his hand to Liz.

Liz looked at him. Stunned.

“Dance with me?”

_Silence._

_Disbelief._

“Well?”

Liz shook her head, laid her hand in his, and let him lead her to the dance floor.

“So, if you’re not Raymond Reddington, who are you?”

Red gazed a Liz with a mischievous smile.

“Does it really matter?”

Liz thought about it for a moment; not certain that it truly did matter after all. There was a curiosity that lingered; a desire to understand why this stranger had entered life all those years ago, and STAYED. But, right now, no.  It didn’t matter.

“It’s a rumba,” Red announced.

“A what?”

“Slow, quick, quick, slow,” Red demonstrated.

“Now keep that time in your feet and LET ME LEAD,” he said insisted with a chuckle.

Liz laughed as he moved them around the dance floor with ease, rhythm, and grace song after song. Laugher and joy engulfing them.

The band announced their final song of the evening as a slow, sultry beat began to play.  

Red moved to leave the floor.

“What is this?” Liz asked innocently as the tune started, not letting go of his hand. Yet another unexpected turn in the evening’s course of events that pushed Red out of his customary position of control.

“It is also rumba, just more sensual than the others,” Red replied provocatively as he resumed his hold on her and gently pulled her closer to him, connecting their bodies considerably more tightly than before.

Liz caught her breath and held it until she felt him lay his cheek against hers and place her hand, wrapped in his, on his chest.

Despite being in a public place busseling with fellow couples on the dance floor, waitresses serving last call cocktails, and those who had already had “too much fun,” they felt alone. Quiet. Nothing was said during their seemingly innocuous yet intensely smoldering time in each other arms.

“Where are you staying?” Red asked innocently, as music ended.

Liz laughed.

“I don’t know. This was such a spontaneous decision, I didn’t get that far.” Liz admitted sheepishly, clearly still affected by the not insignificant amount of alcohol they had ingested throughout the course of their dinner.

Red chuckled.

_Oh no! This can’t be good._

“Say no more…”

Red whispered something to Dembe as Liz grabbed her backpack from coat check.

 

Liz gave him a grateful smile as she got it the back seat of the car.

They sat mostly in silence as Dembe drove through the city.

“I am so glad I crashed your party, Red,” Liz said with a playful smile laying her hand on top of his.

“Me, too, Lizzie,” Red replied sincerely, not certain he would be able to do what he knew deep down he needed to do if she continued to encourage him.

“Where are we?” Liz asked when the car stopped.

“My hotel,” Red replied simply as he got out of the car and went around to open Liz’s door.

_His hotel!?!?!?_

_It is after midnight and you told him you didn’t have a place to stay. Where did you think he was taking you!_

Liz was all of a sudden on fire, both excited and apprehensive about how the evening would proceed.

They entered the elevator without a word, Red’s hand on the small of Liz’s back gently showing her the way.

Red opened the door of his lavish penthouse suite, ushered her inside, and handed her the key without crossing the threshold of the room.

Liz looked at him quizzically.

“This is your room?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you coming in?” she questioned, baffled by his odd behavior which had run the gambit from gentlemanly, to seductive, to revealing, to strange.

“No.”

_NO!?!?!?_

“Really?” Liz asked, both an innocence and a disappointment audible in her voice.

“I’m wheels up in 30,” was his flamboyant reply.

Liz’s face fell as she, to her surprise, found herself extremely disappointed by his answer.

“Why?”

Red took a deep breath.

She had told him she loved him.  Had appeared as if out of nowhere dressed as elegantly as he had ever seen her. They had finished three bottles of wine. She announced that he was not her father. The number of intimate moments that occurred throughout the evening were too many to count - their conversation about Agnes; asking him to stay on the dance floor when the music changed from upbeat to romantic; melting into him when he held her tightly.

To stay invited an evolution in their relationship he wasn’t sure either of them intended but would be nearly inevitable. He needed to get on his plane and leave the city. NOW!

Red stepped one foot into the room, wrapped one arm gently around her waist, and drew her firmly to him. Surprised when she didn’t pull away, he pressed his lip to her ear.

“I think we both know why,” he murmured, nearly inaudibly, his warmth stirring an erotic sensation that Liz had never experienced.

He lingered with her there in his arms for a moment, reconsidering his decision as she softly sighed, before releasing her and stepping back outside the room.

“Good night, Elizabeth,” he finished as he donned his fedora and walked down the hall and into the waiting elevator.


End file.
